Scribbles
by Ella-and-Frankie-Inc
Summary: A weekly series of one shots by Willgirl and AnabelleG. Rating changed to "M" for Scribble 7 - "Fervent & Maidenhead".
1. Refined & Gory

**A/N: Welcome to Scribbles! Each Monday, Wills and I will each randomly pick a word from the trusty Synonym Finder and build a one-shot around that. Any genre, any character is fair game. And here's the first...a little something from Booth's point of view. Our words for this week -- "Refined" and "Gory". It was a blast for us to write...hope you enjoy! - AnaG**

Hm. Good question. Kind of hard to explain though. No one really expects it when it happens. Or knows how it is going to happen. But this was miles past strange or unusual. Weird. Whatever you want to call it. Certainly wasn't the kind of thing that gets a guy to thinking--hey, this is something to tell the grandkids someday, you know?

I mean, you could actually hear the maggots, you know, _squirming_ in all that gunk. And the flies were so thick, we actually had to worry about breathing them in. But the stink. God, that was the worst. Absolutely putrid. Believe me, about the worst thing you could imagine. At least until you got a look at where it was coming from. Made no sense then. Hell, it's still hard to understand now. Really, how many people, in their right minds anyway, fall in love standing over a rotting corpse?

This wasn't my first corspe by any means. Nor would it be my last. I had been four years partnering with Bones and I saw some of the most disgusting stuff imaginable. Stuff that would make you want to throw up right there on the spot. It was hard to take sometimes, coming to terms with the horrible things that people do to each other.

I guess that's why people who don't know Bones think she is cold. She doesn't flinch from remains or shed a tear, just gets to work. She is relentless in her pursuit of the truth and it isn't until the case is solved that she lets her guard down. I know. I'd seen it happen.

Today was supposed to be like any other. A new case, a day full of bickering, maybe some pie at the end.

But something had changed.

There she was, wrist deep in what was left of some guy's gut, her face inches away from all that gore. There was just this pure determination to get every last piece of evidence before the body was moved and the remains were compromised. She never fliched, not once, in the two hours we were there.

When she finally stood, there was this moment, when she was pulling those gloves off her hands and she turned to look at me. Not exactly at me. Because I got the feeling that she wasn't seeing anyone, anything, beyond the victim. She had been in his world all that time, and everything else, well, it had faded somehow. Gone away.

But I saw it, in her eyes, when she saw me. Really saw me. And then, just for a split second, I saw what she hid so well. The exhaustion that came with the examination. The pain that a man's death caused her. And that's when I knew. Knew that I would do anything I could to keep that haunted look from her face.

I couldn't look away, was conscious of the fact that I was staring at her but I couldn't do anything about it. As I looked at her, she struck me as an oddity. There she was in her blue jumpsuit, covered in mud and god knows what else and all at once she looked like she both did and did not belong there. There was something refined about her, the way she carried herself, that would seem more appropriate at a fancy dinner than in the middle of this mess.

But at the same time she fit right in, her scrunched face an indicator that she was trying to work out the puzzle in her head.

I blinked and she had moved, instructing the forensics team to bag the body and the soil surrounding it. She ordered them about with efficiency and soon I could see her in my sightline, marching towards me with a look of determination on her face.

I opened my mouth to say something witty, to ease back into our playful banter as she approached me.

"Booth?" she asked, that questioning look appearing on her face, the one I always found adorable.

"I like you." I blurted out.

I know, I know. How fifth grade was that? And leave it to Bones to call me on it.

"I like you too, Booth. We are partners after all. But I don't exactly see how that is relevant to the case."

She said something else after that. I think it had something to do with the blunt force trauma to the vic's skull, but I couldn't say for sure. Because all I could think about was that I had blown it. And that I had to find a way to make it right. And I would have. If Bones had ever stopped talking. So I did the only thing that came to mind.

I kissed her.

Yes. Right there in front of the dead guy. An entire FBI forensics team. And God knows who else. But I didn't care. Because it worked. She stopped talking.

And she kissed me back.

I can't remember now what it was like. All I recall is my heart pounding and the blood rushing in my ears. And then it was over. She pulled back and I could see a faint trace of embarassment on her face. She hurried to the passenger side of the car and got in.

Meanwhile, several of the forensics team members were grinning while others were handing over money. I grinned then, and hopped in the car, pulling away from the crime scene without another word.

And that's how it happened. That was the moment although Bones denied it for another three weeks until I cornered her in her office and kissed her again.

And the rest is history.


	2. Euphonious & Invisible

**A/N: Here we go! This week's Scribble….based around the words "euphonious" and "invisible". We hope you enjoy! – AnaG and Willgirl**

The grass squeaked beneath her feet and the air was damp and cold. The sun was peeking through the clouds but it didn't do much to make her warmer. She tugged the jacket tighter around herself and walked on.

She was in the park. She was supposed to be here with Booth and Parker, but instead she found herself alone, her eyes darting every which way, keeping on the lookout for her partner and his son. She didn't want to see them. After the fight yesterday, she wasn't sure if she ever wanted to see Booth again.

This fight was different from the others. It wasn't their normal bickering or even an average fight; instead they spat vicious words at each other that neither should have said. She knew he was angry when he said the things he did, but the words still hurt.

And now she was creeping around the park, drawn by the desire to see him but wishing to remain hidden from him as well.

She used to play this game when she was in foster care, flattening herself against a wall or crouching behind a bookcase to find out what mood her foster parents were in without having to show herself.

She had excelled at it, and had retained her abilities throughout adulthood. It was easy to be invisible if you had as much practice as she had.

Then she heard it. Laughter, voices that she would know anywhere moving closer. Drawing on instinct, she quickly stepped from the path and hid behind a nearby oak. She closed her eyes and rested her head against the trunk. What was she thinking? How would she ever explain to him, explain what she was doing when clearly she had no place being there?

They were close now, only a few yards away. A part of her longed to step from her hiding place, to make herself visible to them. But uncertaintly kept her rooted in place. She didn't think she could stand it if she looked into his face to find the anger, to see that she really didn't belong with them.

Instead, she focused on the words traveling back and forth between them. A silly conversation with no rules or direction, but one that delighted them both. It was almost as if they had their own language, filled with code words and catch phrases that came with sharing history, with being part of a family. He sounded so happy, she thought, so different from how he had been with her only a few hours before.

Unable to resist, she peered around the rounded edge of the trunk, her hands pressing into the rough bark as she caught sight of him. She felt a twinge in her heart as she saw the smiles on both of their faces. Dressed in a yellow raincoat and matching boots, Parker skipped along, jumping in every puddle that he saw.

She slowly moved around the tree, hoping that they would walk by and not notice. But as she heard the crack of the branch underneath her foot, she knew she wouldn't be hidden for much longer. She squeezed her eyes shut and hoped against hope that he wouldn't see her.

"Temperance?"

She opened her eyes and found Booth a few feet away.

"I'm sorry...I was just..."

"Bones!" Parker shouted, running towards her. Soon she was the reciepient of a very wet hug.

"Hey Parker." She said, mustering a smile and doing her best not to look at Booth.

"Parker, there's some puddles over there. Why don't you go jump in those and let me and Bones talk, okay?" Booth said.

Parker was off and running and soon it was just the two of them.

They walked slowly, side by side, neither of them saying a word.

"You came."

She nodded, biting her lip and looking slightly worried.

"I'm glad."

She felt his hand slip into hers and was emboldened by the gesture.

"Booth, about what happened, the things I said..."

He stopped walking, and suddenly she was sure that she had done the wrong thing by bring up the argument.

"We said. We both said those things, Temperance. And I'm sorry."

She looked over at him, his features blurring through to tears in her eyes.

"Me too, Seeley."

"But you have to know that no matter what--with anything that happens between us, that you don't ever have to hide. Not from me. Ever."

Years of habit pushed the doubt forward, until she looked into his eyes and saw that he meant it. Really meant it.

"Thank you." she breathed, squeezing his hand tightly.

"So we're good?" he asked.

She nodded.

The sound of splashing drew their attention to the scene in front of them. Parker was jumping in and out of a large puddle and giggling.

"He's going to get sick." she noted.

"Eh, let's give him a few more minutes." he replied, pulling her closer.

"Oh Mr. Sun, Sun, Mr. Golden Sun!" Parker suddenly belted out. "Please shine down on me!"

They chuckled and stood and watched as Parker continued to sing loudly whilst jumping as hard as he could in the puddle.

"Parker's quite euphonius." she commented.

Booth raised an eyebrow.

"It means lyrical. He's got a good ear for music, maybe you should consider putting him in classes. I know classical music helps with the development of..."

Her next words were lost as she felt his lips against hers, his arm wrapped around her waist and pulling her closer. She became lost in the kiss, unaware of anything else, until she could faintly hear a giggle and then...

"Daddy and Bones sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"

She heard his quiet chuckle in her ear, and then with a final touch of his lips to hers, he was gone. She watched as he chased after Parker, listened to Parker's shriek of laughter as Booth caught up with him, swinging him up into the air. Then she began to walk toward them, completely unaware of the smile on her face.


	3. Sympathy & Propriety

**A/N: Sorry that we missed last week…but Scribbles is back! This week's words were "sympathy" and "propriety". And though those two words might seem to lend themselves to something dark or somber….you just might be surprised. Wills and I had an absolute blast writing this shot. Hope you enjoy!-AnaG and Willgirl**

Chin held high, Brennan stalked away from the scene, trying to maintain as much dignity as she could--a prospect made a little more difficult by the fact that the spindly heel of one of her very beautiful, very expensive new stillettos had managed to detach itself from the sole of her left shoe. She could hear Booth calling her name, but ignored him as she neared her car. Only a few steps, she thought as she fumbled for her keys, and she could put the humiliation behind her.

She sensed him moving closer and quickenend her pace, not ready to face another jab at her already wounded pride. In her haste, she overlooked the buckle in the sidewalk, and bobbled the keys as she struggled to maintain the already precarious balance caused by her traitorous shoes. She heard them hit the ground in front of her with a cheerful jangle and closed her eyes.

"Great. Just...wonderful." She muttered under her breath as she maneuvered the full chiffon skirt out of her way, searching for the keyring.

"Looking for these?"

Her spine stiffened at the sound of his voice. She turned slowly and found him looking at her with that damn grin still plastered on his face as he held her keyring on the tip of one finger. Irritation trumping embarrassment, she snatched the keys from him without a word and turned back to her car.

"Hey! What did I do?" He asked.

"You did...you were..." She sputtered, unable to get the words out. She jammed the key in the lock and turned in an attempt to open the door. Apparently the door had other plans.

"Dammit." She cursed under her breath as she tried to pull out the key and start all over again. Unfortunately the key remained stuck in the lock.

"Here Bones, let me try." He said, coming towards her.

"Just don't." she muttered, fiddling with the key again. Booth ignored her and moved around to the other side of the car door, reaching for the keys.

"Booth, just leave". She said, struggling with the key. He reached for it at the same time as she was pulling on it hard, causing her to take a step back. Unfortunately she stepped on her chiffon dress and teetered for a moment, almost losing her balance. But she managed to keep standing and she took another step towarsd him to retrieve her keys.

It was then that her stilletto completely collasped and she slipped on the pavement, falling backwards and hitting the ground with a hard thump. She was definately going to have a bruise there tommorrow.

She groaned and opened her eyes, seeing Booth holding back a chuckle as he held out his hand to her. She huffed and ignored him, launching herself up on her elbows and surveying the damage. Her shoe was broken, her dress was ripped and most horrifyingly, for the second time that night, her granny panties were on display.

"Let me help." He said, barely containing the mirth in his voice.

"I can do it myself." She replied huffily, rolling over and using her hands to hoist herself up to her knees. She grabbed the car door and finally made her way to her feet, looking at him angrily, daring him to crack another smile.

"What? This is my fault now?" He asked as he took a step back from her glare.

"No. But a little sympathy would have been nice, Booth." She replied.

"Sympa...Look, I'm trying to be chilvarous here and you keep swatting me down."

"Chilvary has a way of losing its charm when the bearer is laughing his way through it."

"No. No, you're right. What happened to you tonight, that was...I'm sorry, that was freaking hilarious." He said, dissolving into laughter.

"Booth!" She crossed her arms, indignant that he wasn't chastised in the slightest.

"You know what you need, Bones?" He asked once he gained some semblance of propriety.

"A new partner?"

"No. You need to learn to laugh at yourself every once in awhile. Makes it a little easier, you know, to handle things like this."

"I don't need another life lesson right now, Booth." She sighed and leaned back against the car. "All I want to do is go home and forget the entire night even happened. I have never been so embarrassed."

She was looking down at her ruined shoes, but sensed him moving beside her.

"C'mon, Bones. It's not that bad. So what if a few hundred people saw you go ass over teakettle...is that really the worst thing that's ever happened?"

"No." she muttered under her breath. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction of being right.

"Look," he said, slinging his arm around her shoulders, "Why don't we take my car and come get yours tommorrow? We can get some Wong Foo's, watch a movie or two, whaddya say?"

"Well..." She trailed off as her stomach growled traitorously.

"See?" He commented, gesturing towards her stomach. "I know you are hungry. I am too. That food was awful."

"I guess."

She let him lead her away from her car, hobbling as she followed him.

"The chicken did taste like plastic." She noted.

"Tell me about it." He exclaimed. "And the vegetables? They looked fake. I was dying for Sid's all night."

He looked over and saw her trailing behind him.

She was concentrating on her feet when suddenly her whole body was up in the air.

"Wha..? Booth!"

"Look Bones, if you don't let me carry you, it will take hours to get to the car."

"I'm not some inspid female who.."

"I never said you were." He interrupted. "I'm just trying to be logical."

Laughter bubbled up within her and she tried to keep it down, albeit unsucessfully. Her chuckles soon turned into full blown giggles and by the time they reached his car, she had tears streaming down her face.

She felt his chest vibrate with laughter as well and found herself being carefully set down as he opened her car door.

"Thanks Booth." She said, totally conscious of the fact that her hand was still on his chest and that his was around her waist.

"No problem Bones." He replied, moving in a bit closer. He tilted his head so that his lips were at her ear.

"Besides, I always had a thing for granny panties."


	4. Ridiculous & Maggoty

**A/N: Thanks to everyone for the reviews! And here's this week's Scribble—the words were "ridiculous" and "maggoty". Which seemed the perfect opportunity for Hodgins to make an appearance. We hope you enjoy! – Ana and Willi**

He blinked again as he tried to focus on what Rogerson was droning on about. He knew he should pay attention to this, after all this was his company. But his mind kept drifting to the new samples in the lab. A case had come in as he was leaving and he was mildly embarassed to reveal that he had a once a year board meeting that demanded his attention. Cam had waved him off and Angela had given him a quick squeeze on the shoulder as he passed by.

And now he was here; a stale pastry in front of him along with a binderful of the most important notes ever, all written in the same font and all with the magical ability to melt into the pages.

He looked at Rogerson again as he gestured wildly about something and he sighed.

A meeting like this was precisely why he decided to hand over control of the Cantilever Group to the board members.

Not like that didn't cause a big fight with his parents. His dad didn't really fight, just spoke in low, harsh tones that would cut through you if they could. His mother had a tendency to get hysterical. Upon telling them at the age of 18 his plans to enter the field of science, his father pointed to the study and then proceeded to give an hour and a half lecture about responsibility. When that didn't stick, his father then threatened disinheritence.

He packed up his bags and left the house that night.

But a week later, he returned. His parents had been killed in a car crash and he was now the sole heir of the Cantilever Group and all it's holdings. As he cleaned out his father's study one night, he found the papers that were drawn up to disinherit him. They were never signed.

It didn't hurt all that much, seeing how easy it had been for his father to cut him out of his life. They had never understood each other and both had long since given up trying to bridge the distance between them. That realization, more than anything, was finally brought the tears to his eyes.

Maybe it was that lost chance that goaded him to continue his search of his father's papers, trying to learn more about the father he'd never really known. He should have known to leave well enough alone. Backroom deals. Infidelity. Accounting "irregularities" and what bordered on outright blackmail. All of the evidence was there, his father as meticulous in his record keeping as he had been in listing the perceived failing of his only son.

After three days and nights mired in that, he was more certain than ever that he wanted nothing to do with the world his father lived in, that he would never be like him. He'd come out the other end of the experience determined to divest himself of every tainted asset.

Unfortunately, the conservators of the estate had more to say about that than a 18 year old kid--no matter his net worth. But he still did his best to ignore the legacy, immersing himself in his studies, made himself ridiculously content in the world of maggots and slime.

He still cashed the checks though. At first, he told himself there was tuition, books and food to pay for. He had to have a place to live. Yes, he admitted, there were the cars and the clothes and the parties. Spending time with the friends he'd grown up with didn't come cheaply to say the least. And somewhere along the way, he'd become accustomed to the ease that money brought, the extra comfort. And god help him--the women.

He didn't have a lot of girlfriends per say. More like a string of one night stands. He had a few steady ones in college, but they were all repelled by his love of bugs, even the science-y ones. Despite his love for a good party or two, he worked hard. He enjoyed school, strived to be the best in his field.

When he got to his Masters, he got to do field work. And that's when his love for entomology became an obsession. What others saw as maggoty, he saw as beautiful. His serious girlfriend at the time was Sarah Lennox and she had put up with a lot from him, indulging in his thoughts about the current 'situations' in the government to letting him explain how a garbage dump could actually be a beautiful thing. But when he showed up for their date once wearing overalls and carrying a jar full of callosbruchus maculates, she had enough and dumped him.

All throughout his Masters and his two subsquent Phd's, he stayed away from the mansion as much as possible, only crashing there overnight. The servants were still employed at times but the thought of someone else serving him made him uncomfortable. And all throughout, he was forced to attend this once a year board meeting, sign some important papers and pretend like he cared about this so called legacy his father left him.

Then he was finished and it was time to find a job. He was determined to find some hole in the wall place where he could hide who he really was and do what he really wanted.

That place turned out to be the Jeffersonian.

He almost didn't go for the interview. After all, it was in D.C., where he grew up. He didn't want to be connected in anyway to his family.

But he went and met Dr. Temperance Brennan and was immediately sold on the position. The lab had the latest equipment, there was possible fieldwork involved and most importantly, Dr. Brennan was a true scientist like he was. Six months later Angela joined them and a year and a half after that came Zach.

And in the way these things happen, the four of them went from colleagues to friends. At different paces and to varying degrees. With Angela he found common ground in shunning established norms. Zach began as a cipher, a twisted puzzle to translate--but to the only child in him, the one that had grown up in an too-empty house, the guy became like a kid brother--albeit a strange one. And Dr. Brennan, well she was tougher to categorize. He admired her skill, wanted her respect...and was more than a little intimidated by her knowledge. But he always knew that she got it. They all did. The only people that he ever met that understood his fascination with the mysterious perfections of science. The symmetry of insects. The crystalline strength in even the smallest grain of feldspar. The order it brought to chaos. Those were the things that mattered more than status and stock options and boardrooms.

The lab was his home. Those people, his family in the way that DNA and pedigrees could never support. Even when he was old, decrepit and on the steep slope to senility--he would still point to those years as the most peaceful and content of his life. From the day he stepped into the Jeffersonian to the day he realized that he was utterly smitten with Angela.

Because, even for the hard-core empricist, love changes everything.

He felt a slight nudge from the side and looked over Charlie Miller, one of the newer board members and he sat a little straighter. He hoped to God that the meeting would be over shortly and wondered whether he could get close enought to Board Member #3 to determine if that was a weave or not.

And as it did every year, the same thought rolled around in his head. Maybe his father was right. Sometimes the death and the slime and the maggots got to him. When you literally looked death in the face at work everyday, it can be a little overwhelming.

Yet, a brief glance around the table reassured him. He could never be one of these corporate suits. That didn't make him any less, no matter what his father ever thought.

The meeting ended and he stood and stretched, grabbing his papers and hoping to head out as quickly as possible.

Unfortunately the entrance was blocked by the chairman of the board who trying to cajole him into a business lunch.

"Sorry". he said, a grin appearing on his face. "I've got a case."


	5. Pettifoggery & Embezzle

**A/N: Thanks once again to everyone for reading and for the reviews. We both truly appreciate every word. Speaking of words…the two for this week's Scribble are "pettifoggery" and "embezzle". Hope you enjoy! –AnaG and Willi**

A cloud of smoke permeated the air of the partially filled club as the clinking of the piano keys continued its upbeat melody. Onstage, several girls were showing off their assets so to speak, to the jeers of men at the tables in front of them. It was early in the afternoon so it wasn't that busy, but later the place would be packed with guys looking for a glimpse and maybe even a feel of some of the sexiest girls in town.

Private Investigator Seeley Booth knocked his glass against the bar, nodding at the bartender to give him another. He didn't notice the girls; instead his eyes were fixed on the mahogany bar in front of him as he recieved another drink. This last week had been difficult. In fact the whole month had been difficult. The cases were slow, the money was bad and to top it all of his girl Becky up and left him for some millionaire.

The ice chinked against the glass as he swirled the liquid around. If they didn't get a case soon, it would be history for him and then what?

The door to the bar opened and out of habit he turned and looked and was immediately glad he did.

It was a woman, her face hidden by the shadows. She had gams that went on for days and a pair of tits that would drive any man wild. Booth wondered what a tomato like her was doing a in a dive like this?

But as soon as she stepped towards him, he groaned.

Only his secretary would be crazy enough to find him in a place like this.

"Whaddya doing here,doll?"

"Don't call me doll." She said in a huff. "And what are you doing here in this...this place? It's not respectable."

"Now don't go getting yourself into a twist. I'm just taking myself a little break."

She took the glass from his hand and sniffed the contents.

"Smells more like a vodka tonic to me."

"Whatever." He said, rescuing his drink from her. "Don't you have some files to file or papers to...to do something with?"

"No." She said primly.

"So why're you here busting my chops then?"

"We have a case."

"We?"

"You promised that I could help."

"And you are helping. Answering the phones, keeping up with the dictation."

"But..."

"Face it, doll. Chasing crooks, the kind of riff-raff I deal with, it ain't nothing for a dame like you to be involved with."

He smiled as she sat down with a pout.

"Aw, now don't be like that."

"You're completely infuriating."

"Now you're just trying to flatter me. Tell me about this case..."

"You have to come to the office." she said, exasperated. "He's waiting there right now."

"Who?"

"Our client. Mr. Burk. He's waiting for us."

"Waiting for me, you mean." he smirked.

She just rolled her eyes and stalked off in front of him.

He couldn't help but watch the sway of her hips as she walked and soon he caught up with her, shooting her his patented grin as they made their way back to the office.

He opened the office door to see the aforementioned Mr. Burk wearing a tread in the carpet.

"Mr. Burk, come into my office and we can talk." He lead him in and then pointedly shut the door in Brennan's face and shook his head. When would she ever learn?

"Tell me what's going on."

Mr. Burk opened his mouth to speak when there was a knock on the door. Booth rolled his eyes.

"Come in."

"I brought some coffee." Brennan answered, handing the cups to Booth and Mr. Burk. Instead of turning around, she promptly sat down in the chair and opened her notebook.

Booth rolled his eyes.

"Continue, Mr. Burk."

"Well I work for the Wade and Cohen, they are a financial firm. And lately, something strange has been going on..."

"Who are the key players?" Brennan interrupted.

"Please ignore my secretary and continue Mr. Burk." Booth said, shooting an angry look at Brennan.

"Well, it's in regards to an account I was working on. The man in question is high up in the ranks and I, along with three others were working on his account. Then, in the last month.."

"Petitfoggery!" Brennan shouted.

"Wait..what?" Booth asked.

"You discovered a sinister plot of petitfoggery did you not Mr. Burk? And yet, you do not know who did it?"

"Wait. what does that even mean?"

"Embezzlement." she said, matter of factly. "Someone was trying to take a little money off the top and you realized.."

"Ahh...no that's not what..."

"Maybe they were planning to knock over the whole joint and this was a test..."

"Excuse me for a moment, Mr. Burk." Booth said, getting up from behind his desk and moving toward her. He grabbed her arm and dragged her to the door.

"But..I.."

"You skirts are all the same. A pain in my ass." He opened the door and pushed her out of the room. "Come back in and so help me I'll..."

"What?" she said definately, her hand on her hips.

"Well, I'll..."

"Um, excuse me." Mr. Burk said as he squeezed between the two of them. "I'll just be going now."

Booth looked at her, furious.

"Mr. Burke." She said hastily, placing a hand on his arm. "I apologize for the...miscommunication. Mr. Booth is a fine investigator. The best gumshoe in the business, honest. Please give us, um, him another chance."

Booth held his breath as Burk contemplated the matter. He couldn't afford to lose this one.

"Well, I really do need this matter resolved quickly."

"You won't regret it, Mr. Burk." Booth said, shooting a warning glance at Brennan as he led the client back into his office and shut the door.

"Sorry about that, sir. Now where were..."

"Hot-tempered little number, isn't she?" Burk said with a chuckle.

"That she is, but don't worry she won't..."

"Tell me, man-to-man there Booth, you, uh_, investigated _those assets yet?"

"Excuse me?"

"You know..." The other man wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"I don't think I care for your tone, Mr. Burk."

"Listen, I'll cut to the chase. Throw in some, um, personal time, with your chippy out there and the case is yours."

"I think you should leave."

"Hey, now don't be like that. I was only..."

"Let me cut to the chase. You get outta here now and I won't rearrange your ugly mug with my fist."

Burk didn't need to be told to leave a third time. He hurried out the office, Booth quick on his heels to make sure the slimy little weasel didn't give Brennan any grief.

Brennan looked at him in alarm as the door closed behind Burk.

"What happened?"

"The case wasn't right."

She looked at him reproachfully. "You owe me money."

He sighed. "Look, I'll get it to you okay?"

She reached out and grabbed his arm before he could retreat to the office.

"Don't worry about it Booth." She said softly. "I'm okay."

"Look, you don't have to stay with me, Miss Brennan. It might be wiser to go find a job someplace else."

She frowned.

"You know why I stay don't you?" she said, edging closer to him.

"Well, I..." he began to shift uncomfortably.

At that moment, the door opened and a man came rushing in.

"You an op?"

"Yes."

"I need your help. My daughter's gone missin' and the coppers won't help me."

"Where did she disappear from?" Brennan asked.

"She was at the house yesterday morning but I haven't seen her since."

Booth walked over to the coat stand and grabbed his fedora, placing it firmly on his head. He turned and looked over at Brennan, a grin on his lips.

"Looks like we got ourselves a case doll."


	6. Incensed & Cold

**A/N: Here's this week's Scribble...#6 can you believe it? Wills and I are having a blast writing these. Thanks for reading and the reviews. Hope you enjoy! - AnaG and Willi**

**Oh, this week's words are "incensed" and "cold".**

As Booth pulled to the curb, the first thing she noticed was the tricycle in the yard. It was bright red with rainbow streamers hanging limply from the handles. She averted her eyes, but was still conscious of it there just out of her line of vision. Taking a deep breath, she stepped from the car and quietly waiting for Booth to join her.

"Ready for this, Bones?"

She absently nodded, her attention focused on the other signs. The cheery orange and yellow flowers that lined the short walkway from the street to the house. A tiny pair of sneakers abandoned near the front steps. The brightly painted sign next to the door that announced that the Halverson's lived there. James. Kate. Allie. Sam.

It was the names that did it. One of them was gone. 

She stared at the deep green door with its gleaming brass door knocker in the center and wondered how she was going to do this. Then Booth was knocking on the door. There was a shadow of movement from behind the white lace curtains. Too late now to turn away.

The door opened and her eyes instantly focused on the bags beneath the woman's eyes, the slump of her shoulders, the look of sheer misery on her face.

"Yes?" she said plaintively.

"My name is Special Agent Seeley Booth from the FBI and this is my partner, Dr. Temperance Brennan. May we speak to you for a moment?"

The woman's eyes widened in shock and she moved aside, letting them enter the house.

They sat down on the couch and faced the woman. A brief glance over at Booth showed his sorrow about what he was going to say.

"Mrs. Halverston, I have some bad news. We found Allie."

"Found her?"

"Yes. It appears as if she was murdered. I'm so sorry for your loss."

Mrs. Halverston let out a choked sob.

"I don't...how..."

"Her ribs were crushed in such a way that she would have been kicked..."

"Bones!" Booth said sharply.

She realized what she said and shrank away from Booth as he continued to console the now sobbing woman. She had done it again. Booth had gotten angry with her about telling too much of the truth before but she couldn't help herself. It just came out that way. She looked over at the woman and felt a pang in her heart. She knew what it was like to lose a family member, could easily visualize the pain she was going through.

She was aware of them talking. Booth apologizing on her behalf. Question after question from the mother. She numbed herself to their voices, let them grow distant. Her eyes searched the room, looking for something safe, something that didn't hurt so much to focus on. Instead, she found pictures. Milestones and candids everywhere. Birthday cakes and ballerina costumes and smiles with a missing front tooth. A bright kodachrome archive of the time before the knock on the door.

"Ex-excuse me. I...I'm sorry."

She stood, not looking at the mother, not looking at Booth as she fled. Only when she was safely back in the car, was she finally able to breathe again. She closed her eyes and waited, not once daring to look back.

Eventually, the car door opened, closed. She heard the rattle of his key, expected the rumble of the engine. Instead there only silence, then the deep sigh.

"Go ahead, Booth. Say it." She said, turning to face him.

"What do you want me to say?"

"That I screwed up in there."

"Look, Bones. I know you don't mean to come off as cold, that is a...."

She watched his mouth moving, knew that there was more to what he meant to say. But all she heard was 'cold'. Cold. Cold. Cold. The word thundered in her head. Cold. How could it be when the pain in the center of her chest burned white-hot?

"Can we go to the lab now?" she interrupted, turning her head to face the window. She expected him to argue with her some more, but instead the car turned on and soon they were on the road.

She stared at the window, forcing herself to remain still and calm. She didn't look at Booth once the whole way, fearing that if she did, she would see disgust in his eyes. Maybe he needed a new partner, one that wasn't cold.

Her fists clenched and she was fighting the frustration building inside her.

When the car stopped, she realized that they were not at the lab, but at her apartment.

"It's been a long day."

"I said the lab." She said pointedly. "My car is there".

"I can pick you up tommorrow."

"I dont' need you to hold my hand Booth" She spat out, unbuckling her seat belt and wrenching open the door.

She stalked towards her building, trying to sort out her feelings. One moment she was incensed, angry that he had dared call her cold, the next she was agreeing with him, and a crushing weight settled in her heart.

As she hurried up the flight of stairs, she was aware he was behind her, silent but unrelenting. It wasn't until she put her key in her lock, that he spoke. 

"Bones. Talk to me."

"I'm tired Booth. Just...just go away." She opened the door and headed inside, dragging her feet slightly. 

"Not until you tell me what's wrong." Came the strong voice from behind her. 

"Why don't you just..." She trailed off as his hand came to rest on her shoulder. 

"Temperance". He said, in a low, insistent tone. 

She felt a tear slip down her cheek and cursed it. Cursed him for making it fall. 

The words were there, ready to hurl at him, when his hand slid from her shoulder. She flinched when he touched her face, then closed her eyes as his thumb gently brushed away the tears, slowly drawing their heat across her skin.

"See, Temperance. Not cold. Not cold at all." She heard him whisper through the darkness. 


	7. Fervent & Maidenhead

**A/N: Well, when this week's words turned out to be "fervent" and "maidenhead", it seemed fated that this Scribble would be smutty. We found this one very, uh, interesting to write....hope you all enjoy! - AnaG and Willi**

Brennan was restless. The energy was there, thrumming just under her skin, inching her towards a little bit of madness. But there was no way to release it, no where for it to go. She paced the room, dismissing the reminders of everything that she should be doing. Every one had proved useless. None of them was what she wanted.

_....his hand slid beneath the hem of her shirt, her breath quickening with the first touch against her skin. Muscles tensing as he teased, drawing closer, moving away, building the ache until she was forced to lean into him, to beg. Please, she breathed as he moved over lace and silk, tracing the soft curves but denying her even as she arched in need. Then finally, his fingers brushed against her nipple, so ready for him, taut beneath his touch...._

She threw the file on her desk, running a hand through her hair in frustration. Finally giving into the temptation, she went to her bag, searching for her phone. Once she found it, she hesitated for a second before pressing the first button. He might not want to talk about what happened, but she was through pretending.

The phone rang several times before his voicemail came on and immediately her brow furrowed. It was unlike him to not answer the phone and her mind sorted through the possibilities of where he could be. She dialled it again to no avail and then put the phone down on her desk, turning to her computer in an attempt to concentrate once more.

_...her head hit the back of the door and a fervent moan escaped her lips. His hands were everywhere, driving her wild and she bit her lip to stop from crying out. She could hear his deep breathing as his lips made their way down her jaw and suckled at her neck. The pounding thrum of arousal throughout her body was making her knees weak, and she reached for his shirt to maintain her balance..._

Dammit! She began pacing the room, unsure of what to do next. She had no desire to work, unusual for her. But when something this momentous happens, it's hard to focus. She could go talk to Angela but....she wasn't ready for that yet. She wasn't even sure she was ready for this...whatever this thing was between her and Booth. All she knew was that it was good. So good she could feel her body throb just from the mere thought of it. She sat on the arm of the couch and closed her eyes briefly.

_...she wanted to come even though he hadn't taken any of her clothes off yet and as his hands slowly undid the buttons of her shirt, she tore at his, desperate to touch him, to feel him against her. Her hands touched his smooth skin and her hips jerked slightly. She was craving it, desperate for it and he seemed to think they had all the time in the world. He pulled off her shirt and then unclasped her bra and suddenly his lips were on her, suckling her nipple as she gripped his hair..._

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Booth leaned forward, reaching for his beer, needing something to do with his hands. Something else to think about besides the phone vibrating on the coffee table in front of him. As he took a deep pull from the bottle, his eyes never leaving the lighted display window flashing back at him. Not that he needed to look to know who was calling. Third time in fifteen minutes and he still hadn't answered. He knew it was wrong, but he had no fucking idea what he was supposed to say to her.

..._pushing her against the wall, pressing closer, he needed her to feel what she was doing to him. Slow down, he told himself, as his hands slid from bare skin to denim, gripping the curve of her ass, pulling her against him, building a steady rhythm that nearly drove him over the edge. Her hands clasping at his neck, his shoulders. Her mouth hot on his bare chest as she clung to him, as she lifted herself against him, legs sliding against his thighs..._

He closed his eyes. One night, one mistake, and four years of boundaries, of being so damn careful, went up in smoke. There had been no warning, no way to know what was going to happen. It wasn't the first time that he'd caught himself staring at her, wondering what it would be like. Not the first time, he'd seen seen the answering spark in her eyes. What had been different, what had made him take that one step closer.

..._trembling as he drew his hand higher, repeating his name again and then again as he slid a finger beneath the thin lace barrier, the soft curls brushing his skin as he grew bolder, sliding against the heat pouring from her. She pushed forward and he was inside of her, the contractions strong, greedily tightening against his finger and he could only think of his cock sinking deep into that heat, wrapping around him as he..._

Dropping the bottle on the table with a dull thud, he didn't notice it fall, the spill of the last dregs onto the table. He fled the room, trying to outrun the memory of that night. Insanity, that's what it was. Time for a cold shower. Not very original, but he had to try something. Get his head on straight so that he could deal with this. With her.

He headed for the bathroom, pulling off his shirt and dropping it in the hamper on the way. He pushed down his pants and boxers, his cock springing against his stomach. God, he was hard. He squeezed his eyes shut and willed himself to think of something, anything other than the feel of her in his arms. He reached for the faucet and turned the water on, stepping into the shower. He cringed at the blast of cold water but hoped it would help.

_...She was begging him now, begging him to fuck her as he moved his finger within her slick heat. She was so wet, and the thought that it was because of him, made him incredibly hard. He was concentrating so hard, his lips on her neck as he fingered her unceremoniously, that her fingers curled around his cock came as a surprise and he jerked forward. There was no time to take it slow now and he removed his fingers as he pulled her up against him. She wrapped her legs around him and he thrust into her, hard and deep..._

The cold shower wasn't helping. He groaned as he ran he hand through his hair, the other drifting down to his cock. He wrapped his hand around and gave a few tentative strokes. God, it felt good. He shouldn't be doing this, thinking of her this way while he jacked off but he couldn't help it. It had been so good, just like he knew it would be, dreamed it to be if he were completely honest. He stroked harder now, bracing his other hand against the shower wall, his eyes squeezed shut as he remembered every detail.

_...He buried himself in her, panting and groaning as she gripped his shoulders and begged for more. She was stunningly beautiful at this moment; face flushed, lips swollen...he wanted her, not just now but forever. She was his and equally he was hers. He drove against her, their moans filling the apartment as they went higher and higher. He thrust hard, pushing her against the wall as her muscles clenched around him. He was so close, on the edge of a precipice...._

His body tensed, his body bowing inward as his hand move faster, paced with the echo of flesh against flesh, the memory of her cries spiraling higher, louder in his head. With a deep groan, he leaned into the wet tiles, water pouring over him as he came, the release pulsing, blinding him to every single thought but one. Then finally, his breathing still hard and fast, his hand fell slowly to his side and he opened eyes, acknowledging the truth. He still wanted her.

xxxxxxxxxxx

She pressed her thighs together against the tightening coil of need, fighting it, holding it close. Intense need, but it was just a shadow of what she had felt that night with him moving inside of her, of the orgasm that nearly split her apart.

..._she thrust against him, desperate for release. She slid her hand from his shoulder, moving lower to the place where their bodies met, fingers frantic against her clit as she urged him on. She could hear her own cries blending with his, gutteral, primal, as he increased his rhythm, pounding into her...._

She knew what she wanted. With a last look at the silent phone, she threw it into her bag and stalked from the room. There was a time for emotion and gallantry and... whatever else was going on in his head. But she wasn't some chaste virgin guarding her precious maidenhood, but an adult woman, secure with herself, defined in her needs.

And what she needed now was Booth.

xxxxxxxxxxx

He turned the shower off and stepped out of the shower, reaching for a towel. Wrapping it around his waist, he glanced in the mirror and sighed. His stomach flip flopped and for a moment her thought he was going to be sick. He was unsure of what to do now. Does he march over there, kiss her and tell her how he feels? Somehow, facing Miss Biological Urges seemed a bit trepidatious.

He never should have done it. He was in too deep now and he wasn't sure how to handle it. He glanced in the mirror again.

_'Dude, you're screwed.'_

Letting out a deep sigh, he headed to the bedroom to get dressed. It was then he heard a sound he wasn't expecting to hear, one that could provide a dim ray of hope.

A knock on the door.


	8. Expired & Ranger

**A/N: Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing! This is Scribble #8 and this week's words were "expired" and "ranger". So, it's a Booth story, of course, one from his past. Tissue warning is a must--we were both tearing up by the end of this one. But we do hope that you find this take on our favorite alpha male...interesting. -AnaG and Willi**

Booth leaned closer to the mirror and cautiously pressed the edge of his thumb against his lip. The stinging pain was instant, his breath hissed over his teeth at the first touch. Giving up on the do-it-yourself first aid, he stepped back from the cracked washbasin and appraised the image reflected back at him.

Busted lip. One eye swollen shut. And given the ache in his left kidney, the odds were good that he would be pissing blood for a while. He had to admit, they'd gotten the best of him. Of course, with two goons holding his arms had something to do with it. Not a fair fight or Knuckles wouldn't have gotten the first punch in.

Knuckles, he thought, a chuckle escaping before the split in his lip reminded him that as dumb as the name was, it was well earned. Joe Deluca certainly thought so. Knuckles was his go-to guy when a payment was late. Shaking his head, he spit into the sink, ignoring the tint of blood in the bottom of the basin.

With a sigh, he walked back into his room, grabbed a lukewarm can from the six-pack next to the television. Knocking a pizza box from the edge of the bed, he sat down, absently scratching the stubble along his jaw. He took a long pull from his beer, his eyes traveling the room as he swallowed. Matted carpet that might have been green once upon a time. Orange and purple bedspread that had seen better days even before he'd left it wadded on the floor. Fast food detritus, empty bottles lining the rickety TV stand. The place was a dump.

Only a stop along the way, he told himself. He was only one game away, maybe two, from leaving this shithole behind. He could feel the dice warming up, his luck changing. Soon he'd be flush. On top of the world. That's what he'd tried to tell them, but good old Knuckles wasn't having it. Asshole.

He was so caught up in planning what he would do with his soon-to-be winnings--high roller suite at Caesar's, maybe take that hot waitress from Pat's out dancing--that it took a moment for the knocking on the door to bring him back to earth.

Slowly getting up off the bed, he scanned the room for something sharp. If they were coming back for more, he would at least be ready this time. He silently made his way down the hall and glanced in the peephole. The visitor was worse than anything Joe Deluca could have thrown at him.

It was his father.

He ran his hand through his hair and unchained the lock, swinging the door open to meet the worried eyes of the man he hadn't spoken to in barely a year.

"Hi Dad."

"Seeley." The elder Booth said gruffly, entering the room and surveying the mess with a look of distaste.

"What are you doing here?"

This was all he needed. His father to come here and tell him how to take care of his life. As if them both being in a war meant that he knew all.

"I came to see you. Thought maybe we could grab something to eat?"

He nodded, calculating in his head how much dinner would take from his pot. Maybe he could get his dad to pay. He gestured towards the door and they headed out.

Five minutes later, they were in a local diner, facing each other, not uttering a word.

"How's Mom?" he finally asked, not really wanting to know the answer but feeling the need to fill the unceasing void.

"She's great. Busy as ever, as usual. We had a big family dinner last week for Jared's birthday. Everyone was asking about you."

Booth nodded. "What lie did you tell them?"

"Lee..."

"Forget it Dad, okay?" he said, more harshly then he intended.

Jared was a sore subject. He was the favored son, graduated with honors, great job, great girlfriend. His life was perfect. Of course, he didn't have to go into the miltary like Booth did in order to pay for college. Oh no, Mom and Dad managed to pony up enough money for that on their own. Ironically, he did anyway. Came out a fucking hero of course. Booth knew he hadn't seen a lot of action, not like he had, but it didn't matter. Mom was still all agog over his glory.

He rubbed his eyes and shook his head slightly, as if that would rid him of the persistent headache.

"What do you want Dad?"

He needed to wrap this up quick. He needed to get back to the tables tonight if he was going to have a chance in hell of earning the money back in order to pay Knuckle's boss.

He braced himself for a lecture but instead, his dad just reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a slip of paper, handing it to him.

Booth reached for the paper and realized instantly that it was a cheque, folded in two. His father had brought him money. He opened it up and looked at the amount, his heart pounding rapidly.

It was $10,000. Enough to pay off Deluca and have a bit left over. He was going to be safe.

He grinned in spite of himself. He knew his luck was changing, he just knew.

"Dad, I..."

"Take this money and get yourself out of whatever trouble you're in, son. And then use this."

He handed over a plane ticket.

"Dad...."

The elder Booth got up, dropping a few bills on the table. "Come home son."

And with that, he was gone.

Booth fingered the plane ticket and then tucked it into his pocket, along with the cheque. The first thing he was going to do was head to a bank. Then he would pay off Deluca and figure out what to do next. Maybe head home, maybe cash in the ticket for someplace else, who knew.

As he walked along the strip, his eyes darted to the casinos and the revelatory on the streets. He thought of the cheque, burning a hole in his pocket. $10,000 was good. But it wasn't quite good enough. Not if he really wanted to make a new start. He needed more than that.

All he needed was a few games of craps, right? He could turn that $10,000 into 50 grand and then he would never have to play again. He veered right into the MGM Grand and his grin widened. He could do this.

xxxxxxxxxx

He watched the runway speeding by, rising up to meet the wheels of the plane as it touched down with a jarring thud. The plane taxied into the terminal, sliding past other jets, baggage handlers scurrying around in their carts. The inside of the cabin was filled with the sounds of seatbelts clicking and people shuffling their bags. But he was numb to all of it, his mind still replaying the image of the dealer raking in the last of his chips, the look in the other man's eyes. Loser.

"Welcome to Dulles International Airport. The temperature today is...."

The tinny squawk from the front of the cabin finally brought him closer to the surface, and he rose from his seat. On auto-pilot, he reached into the overhead bin, trying to ignore the light weight of his bag, the faded and worn olive-green fabric. All he had left to call his own. Everything else had been left on a felt table, tossed away with one roll of the dice. Everything gone. Including his pride.

He blinked rapidly, realizing that he'd made it into the terminal in some sort of fugue state, no idea how he had gotten there. People swirled around him. Lugging suitcases, herding kids. Families loudly greeting each other at the gates, their happiness ringing loud and true.

Shoving his hands deeper into the pockets of his jacket, he pushed the thought of family away. Even if he had shown up in Pittsburgh, he knew that he couldn't face them. His mother brightly avoiding any hint of the failure hovering around him, Dad not bothering to hide his disappointment. The smug undertone to anything that came out of Jared's mouth.

Bypassing the baggage carosels, he wandered out to the line of taxis. A cabbie motioned him over, but he just shook his head. He knew he need to move, but he had no destination. Had chosen D.C. because it was the next available flight out of McCarren.

Booth began walking, vaguely hoping that some sort of answer might cross his path. Something thumped against his shoulder, and at him limit, turned to tell off whoever it was that had hit him. Instead, he found himself staring open-mouthed at the face of young kid, his head boot-camp skint and overstuffed duffle hanging from his shoulder.

" 'Scuse me, sir," the kid said.

"No, uh, no problem."

He was still standing there, long after the soldier had disappeared into a waiting car. And then, slowly, reluctantly, he reached for his wallet, sliding his fingers through the few worn bills, past a useless, expired credit card from a time when things were better. Finally, he withdrew a smudged scrap of paper, a single name and number scrawled across its crease.

Once a Ranger, always a Ranger they said.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

15 minutes later he was a in a cab and headed towards the suburbs of D.C. He fiddled with a poker chip, flipping it between his hands and rolling it around. It was his last chip. He had lost his money and later, after heading back to his room, he found it on the bedside table. His urge to spend it was tempered by the fact that he couldn't even place a real bet with it. And as he rushed out of the room, anxious to avoid another bout with Deluca's guys, he reached for it and put it in his pocket, just in case.

Now, as he looked at it, he felt his heart sink. He didn't know what he was doing here. Part of him wanted to tell the cabbie to turn around and head back but he wouldn't be able to afford it.

Plus, he didn't have anywhere to go.

He sighed and resigned himself to whatever was coming next. Maybe Hank would let him stay a few nights until he got his shit together. What that meant, he wasn't sure. He was already itching to go back to the tables and it hadn't even been a full day. He just needed to find a way to turn his luck around. He was so close this time, he could taste it.

The cab slowed and pulled to the side of the road in front of a red brick house.

"That'll be $27.50". The cabbie said.

"What?" he said, squeezing his hands into fists. He only had $21.00 and now he had to convince this cabbie that it was good enough.

"$27.50." The cabbie repeated, tonelessly.

"Umm...well..." He reached in and pulled out the $20 in his pocket. "All I have is..."

A rap at the window caused him to look up and he saw Hank smiling at him.

He nodded and gave what he hoped was a smile back before turning to the cabbie.

"Look, can we make a deal or something...." His tone was desperate and as he clutched the $20 bill in his hand, he blinked hard. He had $10,000. More than that before and now it was gone, now he was here, without even enough to pay a god damn taxi. He couldn't even fucking feed himself.

The door opened and he felt Hank's stare.

"Sorry Hank, I'm just paying..."

"Here."

He turned and saw Hank with a $20 bill in his hand.

"I..." He couldn't speak. All he could remember was the look in his father's face when he handed him the cheque and told him to come home. He could never do that now.

"Take it." Hank said softly.

He nodded and took the money, turning and handing it to the driver. Getting his duffel bag, he got out of the cab and turned to Hank, who was waiting at the bottom of the driveway.

"I'm sorry."

He gripped his duffel bag tighter as he tried to get the words out, tried to explain what happened.

A tear rolled down his cheek but he barely noticed.

"I'm sorry." He repeated. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay." Hank nodded as they slowly made their way up the driveway. "It's going to be okay Seeley."

Booth stopped, suddenly unable to move under the weight of the doubt pushing down on him. What if Hank was wrong? What if he fucked this up, the same way he had everything else in his life? If this didn't work, if he managed to destroy the last good thing...

"Booth..."

He looked at his friend, for the first time in a long time, not trying to hide anything. He didn't have the strength for it anymore. Hank nodded his head once in the direction of the house and then placed both hands on the wheels of his chair, waiting a moment before heading towards the open door.

Booth watched as Hank disappeared into the house, leaving the door open. And then, his hand shifting the strap of the duffel on his shoulder, he took the first step.


	9. Brush & Gabble

**Scribble #9 is a special Thanksgiving edition—complete with the joy of family members that say exactly what's on their minds. Hope you enjoy! –Ana and Willi**

**(And this week's words are "Brush" and "Gabble")**

"Did you hear?"

"Hear what?"

"Do you have gossip for us, Eunice?"

The woman nodded and moved closer, well as close as she could get on these large chairs. "Seeley is bringing someone."

"He is?"

"Really?"

"Seeley has a gun?" the third voice chirped.

"Really, Edna, you should put your hearing aid in." Eunice frowned.

The frown couldn't stay for long however. Not at the thought of her grand-nephew finally bringing someone home. And she finally got to share some gossip with the rest of the girls. The girls in question were Mary Booth, her sister in law, Amelia Warren, a second cousin and Edna Booth, the 91 year old matriach of the family. Mary, as usual, didn't know anything, despite the fact that her husband was the closest to James, Seeley's father. Which is why it always pleased Eunice to provide the latest gossip. And this gossip had everyone buzzing.

Seeley Booth was the last unmarried child of the Booth clan and it perplexed everyone as to why. After all, he was the most handsome, that couldn't be denied.

Of course he did have 'The Affair' with that Rebecca girl and while no one approved, they did get an addition to the family out of it. Eunice loved Parker, he would come and hug her and the other ladies, unlike the other children.

"Who is it?" Mary asked, interrupting her thoughts.

"What? Oh, I'm not sure, it's a big surprise."

"Who's got a disguise?"

"Edna, turn on your hearing aid please." She said loudly, shaking her head.

"Okay, fine." Edna said, muttering under her breath as she adjusted her hearing aid. "Now, tell me...what's this about disguises? It's Thanksgiving for heaven's sake not...."

"Sur-prise, Edna dear. Seeley is a bringing a new girl with him this year and no one knows a thing about her."

"Well, it's about time."

The clatch of ladies all nodded their agreement. Seeley was a good boy and needed to settle down.

"I hope this one's not like that Tessa. That one thought she peed rosewater."

"Edna!"

"Put your teeth back in your mouth, Eunice. You know it's true."

"Hmmphh."

"Does anyone know anything about her? The new one, I mean?"

"I just hope she's a good Christian woman."

"I don't know, Eunice. James told my Frank that she was a _scientist_." Mary chimed in with a knowing look.

"What does that have to do with the price of tea bags in China, Mary?" Edna called out.

"Well, everyone knows all of those scientists are athiests."

Mary's proclamation sent the group into a twitter.

"Seeley's a good church-going man. He would have more sense than that."

"Maybe not if she was good in the sack."

"Edna! A little decorum, please!"

"Oh, hell's bells. There's not a one of us that hasn't been up to some hanky panky at some point in our lives. Eunice I seem to recall your being caught with that Nichols boy with his hand in your knickers....

"Why I never..."

"Yes, you did." Mary said, giggling.

"You hush up, Mary. Unless you want everyone to hear about..."

"Ladies! Back to what's important here. Seeley's mystery lady."

"Right." the others nodded in agreement.

"When are they coming?" Amelia asked.

"Hopefully soon." Edna grumbled. "I'm starving."

"Now we all know Seeley and we know he would pick someone nice."

"Hopefully for good."

"I agree. That boy's got to get married. Back in my day, the men who didn't get married by 30 were suspicious and criminal."

"Edna, Seeley's an FBI agent, remember? He's not a criminal."

"I'm just sayin..."

"Look, there he is." Mary exclaimed, pointing to the entrance. "He brought Parker too."

"So that she-devil let him have him..." Edna muttered.

"Is that her?"

All four heads focused in on the woman behind Booth.

"Well....she's different." Mary said. "I don't know about her looks..."

"Now Mary Booth, just because you're as plain as plain can be, doesn't mean you can snipe on others. Besides, she's pretty."

"She doesn't look like the others."

"You mean, blonde and big bosomed?"

"Edna!"

Edna just shrugged her shoulders. "Now here they come..."

"Hi Auntie Eunice, Hi Auntie Mary, Hi 'Melia, Hi Granny Edna." Parker said, giving each one of them a hug.

"Well now, you've grown." Eunice commented.

"At least two inches since last time." Booth commented, moving closer.

None of the eagle eyed ladies missed the hand squeeze he gave to the woman next to him.

"This is Temperance Brennan. Bones, this is my Aunt Eunice, my Aunt Mary, my cousin Amelia, and my grandmother, Edna."

"Bones?" Eunice asked, eyebrow raising.

"Just a nickname." Booth said hastily.

"Enough of that, come give your grandmother a big hug. You too Bones."

Each woman waited patiently for her hug and the chance to appraise Seeley's new woman from up close. Once each had their turn, an expectant silence descended in the room.

"So, uh, are Mom and Dad around?" Booth finally asked.

"Rosalie called a little while ago. She and James should be here any moment."

"Okay. I guess we'll just..."

"Seeley?"

"Yes ma'am?"

"The other boys are in the den watching a football game. Why don't you and Parker join them?"

"That'd be great, Aunt Eunice, but I don't think Bones would enjoy..."

"Oh, she...Bones, is it? Yes, Bones can stay here with us. It will give a chance to chat."

"Really, Amelia, I don't think..."

"It's okay, Booth."

"Are you sure?" He leaned closer. "They look harmless, but..."

"Go. Enjoy the game."

"Okay." He replied, reluctantly accepting her decision. He turned to the the older women. "You promise to be on your best behavior?"

They all pretended to have their feathers ruffled by his question, his smile having taken the sting out of his words.

"Of course, dear."

"Promise."

"Really, Seeley, I never..."

"Call me if you need me. I'll just be..."

They watched in unison as he left the room, and when he glanced back once more, they all made sure to have the most innocent of expressions on their faces.

"Would you like some tea, dear?" Mary asked once he was gone.

"That would wonderful. Thank you."

A few precious moments of inquisition were lost as the tea was served and the first few sips were taken in silence. It was Amelia that made the first foray.

"Seeley's very handsome, isn't he?"

"Yes, he is. His features are very symmetri..."

"Enough small talk. So how long have you two been bumping uglies?" Edna interrupted.

"Edna! You'll have to excuse her..."

"I don't need anyone making excuses for me. I'm an old woman and don't have time to waste on being hoity-toity. So young lady....?"

"I don't know what that means."

"I heard it on the Springer show. It's what you young people call it, isn't it? Doing the deed, dancing with the one-eyed snake, the horizontal mambo...oh for heaven's sake, Eunice, you're not going to faint are you..."

"Oh. You mean sexual intercourse..."

"That's exactly what I mean. It's very important that the sex is good. My Leonard and I were married for forty years and right up until the day he died we...

"One more word, Edna, and I swear I'm going to take the batteries right out of your hearing aid." Eunice said, red-faced.

"It's alright. As the matriarchal figure, Edna is simply expressing the alpha-female imperative to..."

"The alpha-who? What does that mean?"

"It means I'm the boss of all of you gabbling ninnies is what it means." Edna said triumphantly. "Take that Eunice!"

Eunice grabbed for her cane and Amelia quickly stood, blocking her path to Edna.

"Would you like to see some family photos, Temperance?" She asked, hurriedly trying to squelch the impending confrontation.

"I didn't mean to...." Brennan started to explain, but stopped when Amelia practically shoved an album into her hands.

"Pictures, dear. Nice, _safe _pictures."

"You know anthropologically speaking family photo albums are an excellent archival....Oh."

They all waited for her to continue so they could make some sense of what she was saying, but her words trailed away. She had opened the book and was looking at the first page. They all knew that picture. Seeley was three, sitting in the chair at his father's barber shop, grinning from ear to ear, so proud of his 'big-boy' haircut.

Each woman looked knowingly at the other, and with unspoken agreement, remained quiet as she slowly turned the pages of the album. They had been prepared to throw down the gauntlet to make sure this Bones person was good enough for their Seeley, but they knew this was the real test.

They watched as she smiled and knew it was the one of Seeley and Jared playing army 'mens'. They nodded along as she tilted her head and knew it was the one with after he'd lost his first tooth. And to a one, they sighed when she brushed her fingers over the last one, the one Rosalie snapped before he headed off to boot camp. Because by then they knew.

She closed the album, and hesitated before looking up at them.

"Thank you."

Edna studied her for a moment and then stood, slowly walking over to where Brennan was sitting.

"I think you'll do just fine."

Then she sat down and patted Brennan on the shoulder.

"But, listen. If you ever need to spice things up in the boudoir, Leonard and I swore by page 68 in that Joy of Sex book...."

"Edna!"


	10. Stem & Horrendous

**So, it's been a little while….but we are back! Hope you all enjoy Scribble #10! – Ana and Willi**

**And this week's words are: horrendous and stem**

Brennan was itchy. No, itchy wasn't a strong enough word for how she felt. Her whole body was on fire and she couldn't stop scratching. She tried to take a deep breath but failed, her stuffed nose only allowing tiny snorts of air to pass through. She glared at the offending item on her desk and tried to determine how to dispose of it without feeling worse. (Not that it was possible).

This was all her own fault. She had been getting antsy lately, even going so far as to snap at Booth over something trivial. It was then she realized that she needed to alleviate her sexual frustration immediately. So she had called up Thomas Wynbourne, a donor she met at the latest Jeffersonian gala and asked him out. He was handsome with an impressive musculature, so it was quite easy to fall into bed with him. The sex was excellent of course, and she found herself feeling much more calm.

But then of course, Thomas had to continue to pursue her, despite her insistence that it was a one night thing. She went out on a second date (since Angela advised her to give him a second chance) and found it as boring as the first. The sex was still great though. But she hadn't seen him since. It had been eight days and she assumed that he had gotten the hint and left her alone.

But that's when the bouquet of death arrived.

She surveilled the floral monstrosity from as great a distance as the dimensions of her office would allow her. It sat there, defying description even as it continued to emit its toxic waves of pollen and other assorted allergens. The thing was massive; Thomas must have selected half a dozen of every type of flower the shop had available before cleaning them out of baby's breath and fern fronds in the process. Brennan couldn't help but think that whatever florist had created this travesty should be alleviated of their license....and that Thomas needed a serious lecture on the subject of overcompensating.

'And limits,' she thought as another series of sneezes overtook her.

"Oh...my....god."

"Don't say anything Angela, please. Just get rid of this before I...."

"What did you do you naughty naughty girl?" Angela said with a knowing smile as she ignored Brennan in favor of searching the arrangement for the card.

"What? Nothing. I didn't do anything....to deserve...." Brennan tried to speak, but the next incipient sneeze gave Angela all the opening she needed

"Bren. This thing needs its own zip code. The guy...."

"Thomas

"Okay. Thomas. He must have spent a fortune. So either you were a very_, very ... _

A low whistle interrupted before Angela could travel further down that particular path. Brennan would have been grateful, had she not immediately identified the source.

"Well, well...what do we have here?" Booth said as he sauntered into the office with a smirk that told Brennan that this was not going to be good. Not good at all.

"Booth please..."

"Nice flowers Bones."

"No, no they aren't. I..." She then let out a horrifyingly loud sneeze that caused both Angela and Booth to turn and stare.

"Sorry, I.." she started fleetingly, before seeing both of them burst out in laughter.

She pouted as she watched them laugh over her current situation.

"S..sorry Bones." Booth said, through his chuckles.

She sniffed again and crossed her arms.

"Can you please get rid of it?" she asked, when they had both finally calmed down.

"Aww, come on Bones, don't you want to keep it around for a bit? It's kind of..."

"Tacky? Overdone?" Angela supplied.

"Look." she said firmly. "I'm not seeing him again and I wasn't expecting this since it's been over a week. Okay?" She knew she was getting testy but frankly she could barely breathe.

"If it's been over a week, how come he sent them today?" Angela inquired. Booth looked equally confused.

Tears welled in her eyes that were unfortunately not allergy related.

"I have no idea. Can you please remove it? I'm going to the bathroom."

She didn't wait for an answer as she made her way to the bathroom. As she looked at herself in the mirror she reasoned that it wasn't a big deal for her two closest friends to forget her birthday. After all, anthropologically speaking, the celebration of one's birthday is little more than an ego boost.

Studying her reflection, she told herself that she didn't need the validation of gift, cards or a frivolous party with an anacronistic cake and balloons. A confident, independent, successful woman didn't need those things to feel good about herself. Straightening her shoulders, she pressed a dampened paper towel beneath her reddened eyes, trying to erase the evidence of tears that definitely, most absolutely, were only an immunological response to the pollen in those damn flowers.

xxxxxxx

Settling onto her couch, Brennan sipped from her wineglass. Smoky blues drifted the stereo, the scratchiness from the original recording adding to the aching beauty of the song. She drew her legs beneath her, fingers tapping slowly against the glass as she looked around the shadowed room. For a moment, she considered the novel resting on the table, but there was no curiosity to see how the plot unwound. Without having to look, she also knew that there were journal articles to be read, email to be checked, notes from her editor to review. None of it, though, held any appeal.

With a sigh, she stood and began to wander the room, unsettled by the disconnect she felt from the space that she knew so well, that usually brought her such comfort with its familiarity. Why now did it feel so empty?

_...alone on your birthday_....

She barely had time to dismiss the thought, to return to the mantra that she had repeated throughtout the day, when a knock sounded on the door. For a second, she allowed the tiny flare of anticipation, before realizing that it probably signaled nothing more than the arrival of the chinese food she had ordered.

_...alone on your birthday_....

Taking another sip of wine, she reached for the bills that she had placed on the counter and headed for the door.

Swinging it open, her mouth formed an 'o' of surprise as she saw Booth standing on the other side.

"Hey." he said, shuffling his feet.

She frowned for a moment, wondering what was wrong. He wasn't acting himself. There was no ego and swagger; instead awkward nervousness prevailed.

"Can I come in?"

She nodded and opened the door further so he could step inside. It wasn't until they were on the couch that she realized he had something in his hand that looked suspiciously like something wrapped in tissue and paper. Before she could continue to observe, she felt Booth's hand on her knee.

"Listen, Temperance, can we talk?"

She nodded, shivering as she heard him use her given name. Whatever it was, it must be important.

"I wanted to apologize for earlier. As soon as you left, I realized why you were sent the flowers. It's your birthday. I'm sorry that I forgot and frankly I can understand if you are mad at me.."

"I'm not." she interrupted.

"I got you something." He said, hesitantly. "I know it's not as extravagant, but I know you like them so..." He trailed off and thrust the package in front of her.

"You didn't have to..." she said, as she unwound the tissue paper. There inside, lay five daffodils, their colour as bright as the sun. Her favourite.

She looked up and saw his face, nervously awaiting her reaction.

And that was the moment she fell in love with him.


End file.
